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“MORE RUM!” “MORE RUM!” demanded he
The Tolarian mage of arcane.
He drank, he drank all of it ye see
To drown away his pain.

He left, he left, the little bar
That Tolarian mage of arcane.
Fell right over just not far
From drowning away his pain

A hand, a hand, did extend
To the Tolarian mage of arcane
A lady, what a lady, to him a very good friend
Saved him from the pain

Thanks to her, Dear Masquerade
The pain has gone away.
©2006-2010 ~blackeyedassassin
:iconblackeyedassassin:

Author's Comments

This is supposed to be intended for ~BlindSeer131 . This poem is about a mage named Cyrus (property of ~BlindSeer131 don't use him). Cyrus has a little drinking problem. In the end of the poem he is saved from his inner demons by his lover Masquerade (property of ~masqueraderidesagain).

The poem is supposed to have a lively beat to it, like some chant you would drink in a taver during a drink with your buds. *shrugs* i hope you like it, it's not indepth, but it's not horrible.

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:iconmasqueraderidesagain:
Good sir, come now! Such flattery I rarely behold! Surely I am not as heroic as you describe.

--
"...only a real artist knows the actual anatomy of the terrible or the physiology of fear." -Pickman's Model, (1926-27)

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August 7, 2006
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